


Consolation Prize

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Pen & Ink - yakuzaverse [4]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-25
Updated: 2007-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanada suffers a disappointment, and Yukimura tries to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consolation Prize

**Author's Note:**

> Another omake to Pen &amp; Ink; PG-13 and fluffy. Sort of. Well, fluffy in a peculiarly _Yukimura_ sort of way.

**Consolation Prize**

The knock came just as he was finishing the chapter, so Seiichi held his place with his finger and called for whoever it was to come in.

It was Marui, and his lips were pressed tight. "I just heard from the brat."

"He didn't win?" Seiichi asked, although it was obvious from Marui's face that Genichirou hadn't.

"The brat said someone named Oshitari got it."

"Oh _hell_." Why couldn't it have been one of the _other_ shortlisted authors? Tachibana, perhaps—Genichirou _respected_ Tachibana. Or even _Fuji_. Genichirou didn't loathe Fuji the way he loathed Oshitari. "I suppose we won't need the champagne after all. Let them know to find something else. A red would be nice."

"Yes, sir." Marui ducked into a quick bow and withdrew.

Seiichi sighed after he left, and tried to go back to his reading, but it was slow going now, distracted as he was, and he checked the time after every other page, waiting for Genichirou to come home. He couldn't possibly leave the awards ceremony and come straight home. His publicist would insist that he attend the party afterwards and mingle, no matter that the heavens had not fitted Sanada Genichirou to be the mingling type. Eventually he gave the reading up for a lost cause and sat, drumming his fingers on the cover, wondering what on earth had possessed the judges to give the prize to Oshitari's sentimental twaddle when any imbecile could see that the rest of the books were a hundred times better, and Genichirou's book was head and shoulders above them all—

He was thoroughly angry on Genichirou's behalf by the time Genichirou came in, trailed by one of the servants bringing the wine. Genichirou didn't say anything until after she'd poured it for them and retreated from the room. "I see you heard," he said, shedding his jacket and cummerbund, and undoing his tie.

"Akaya-kun let us know," Seiichi said, as Genichirou dropped into his chair and took his glass of wine. "I'm sorry you didn't—"

"You win some, you lose some," Genichirou said, glaring at his wine. "Losing's not so bad, unless there's someone there to rub it in your face that you lost."

"Was there someone there that tactless?" Seiichi asked, feeling the ice creeping into his voice.

Genichirou's expression turned darker. "Oshitari is not the most gracious of winners." He drained most of his glass in one draught. "Can you believe that he had the balls to console me on not winning, and tell me that I was sure to write something prize-winning one of these days?"

It was a good thing that his own glass of wine was sitting safely on the table; Seiichi dug his hands into his knees instead. "Would you like me to have him killed?" he asked. "I could have his balls on a plate for you by breakfast."

Genichirou looked up from his empty glass, startled. "Would I—" he began, and stopped. For a moment he looked very tempted by the offer. Then he snorted and shook his head. "Don't ask me things like that when I'm in this sort of mood. I'm liable to say yes."

"You are _mine_, Genichirou. No one insults what's mine and gets away with it," Seiichi said, still cold with rage.

Genichirou blinked, and then his expression softened. "It's just Oshitari's way," he said. "I would have been just as insufferable to him, if it had gone the other way." He paused, and added, wry, "But I have more self-respect than to sleep with the judges to make sure of winning. Everyone knows that his book was the weakest on the short list."

Seiichi scowled. "Is that supposed to make me feel _better_ about your not winning?" he demanded. "You deserved to win."

Perversely, that only seemed to lighten Genichirou's mood more. "It makes _me_ feel better," he said, setting his glass down. "There'll be other awards."

"It's not _right_," Seiichi grumbled. "His balls by breakfast. Just say the word."

Genichirou laughed, and leaned over the arm of his chair to catch at Seiichi's hand, coaxing it to unclench. "I wouldn't know what to do with Oshitari's balls."

"You could bronze them," Seiichi said. "Weren't you saying that you needed a paperweight?"

Genichirou chuckled. "No, I don't think so." He rubbed his thumb over Seiichi's palm. "I'm afraid you'll have to find some other way to make me feel better."

"Oh, will I? Just what did you have in mind?"

"You're clever," Genichirou said, eyes dark. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

There was nothing to do but accept that challenge, so Seiichi did, but even as he coaxed Genichirou out of the rest of his clothes, he was making plans to send Niou around to let Oshitari know just how lucky he was.

Genichirou might be the merciful sort, but no one insulted Rikkai's own.

Not more than once, anyway.

**end**

   
Yukimura, obviously, has odd ideas about what constitutes being comforting. But it's the thought that counts, right?


End file.
